Love That Will Last
by CLASSICDUH
Summary: Erik has always been a lonely soul, but what if the only woman he loves can find the good and beauty within him?
1. Introduction

_**Love That Will Last ~**_

**_Introduction ~_**

_2/13/1876_

_My cursed mother dare deny me once more! I only wanted love, love was all I ever asked for. But no, her lips were too saintly to touch my demonic skull. I will show her. I will show her with everything I have that she will regret ever denying me the pleasure full love can give. One kiss, that's all I asked! But no, I am too ugly. Get it through your head, Erik! You are too ugly for love! You will never be accepted!_

_3/12/1883_

_Finally! I have fled from those wicked gypsies, since the my master's hand is cold. I am glad to have finally killed him, for he was the pure definition of nasty. If he was any nastier, he would be as ugly as I. You best hear me from hell, Javier! I hate you, your people, and all that you ever were!_

Erik sat alone, reading pages from his journal that have been written in over the years. His slender hand flipped through pages as Nadir, Erik's only 'friend', was across the room watching him in wonder as the masked man began to cry. Nadir was a calm man, one who had plenty of patience, but emotions were intolerable. He had never seen Erik cry and it almost made him sad as well. Nadir had heard a bit about Erik's teaching Christine, who was now sixteen years of age, practically a baby, "I heard about this Christine woman, Erik. When were you planning to rape her?" Erik sensed a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but the comment still angered him.

"Rape her? How dare you even joke about that, Nadir!" the slender gentleman shook with sadness, "She is such a beautiful thing! So innocent, so kind. Who would commit such cruelty towards an angel like her? No. I shall bring her here on her eighteenth birthday," he exclaimed, motioning around this underground 'palace' he built maybe five years ago, "She will meet me then, in secrecy. I will be kind to her, make her feel good. Make her feel loved." He brushed back a few strands of ink black hair and waited for any other words from his friend.

"Eighteenth birthday! That is just two years away! How do you expect her to accept you, anyway?"

"Just as she accepted everything else. She is very sweet, Nadir. I don't think you ever saw her. She is sweeter than the sweetest candy you can imagine. What with her lovely auburn curls and big, beautiful eyes. I only saw her through the mirror, but I can imagine what it is like to hold her in my arms," he sighed, imagining the texture of silky smooth skin beneath his fingertips, "And her lips. I can feel her kiss me very softly upon the head. If only she could, if only...mother. What am saying!? My own mother wouldn't kiss me! Forgive me, Daroga. I live in a fantasy world!"

"Well, Erik," he stood up and stared at his sad friend, "you never know. Judging by what you say, she just might love you. You know what they say, everybody has a somebody. Maybe she is your somebody."

"Oh, really, Daroga! Do you think she could love me? Do you think she could love this face? This body that has been through so much!?"

"Perhaps. Just give the girl time. If she loves your voice, I am sure she'll understand you. But Erik, don't get possessive. That is not the way to win a girl over," Nadir doffed his Astrakhan cap at Erik and continued through a brick pathway that led to the lobby. As soon as he appeared in the dim lighting of the lobby, he saw two girls, one with wavy blonde hair and one with light auburn curls, the girl Erik had described. He heard the girl being addressed as Christine and noticed that they were giggling at him. He brushed it off, knowing that it was probably some silly teenage joke. But when the blonde girl approached him, he was suspicious.

"Excuse me, Monsieur. But my friend wanted to know if you were single." The girl batted her blue eyes sweetly, which made Nadir worry. He always thought that the way the French fraternize is strange.

"Meg!" The girl cried in a shrill tone.

"Oh, come on! He's so adorable! Where are you from, Monsieur?"

"Persia. I think I should be going though. I have a wife to go home to," as Nadir quickly fled, Christine stood in shame.

"I told you not to ask him. I didn't mean it, Meg!"

"I'm sorry! Gee, Christine! Are you bleeding this month, or what?"

"Please, stop it," Christine heard the soft chiming of the hall clock in the lobby. Eleven chimes, "I think it's time we head up for bed."

"Yes. So you can speak to the mirror again."

"I don't speak to the mirror, Meg. It is my angel of music. Please, do not tell Madame Giry!"

"Don't tell Madame Giry, what?" Christine looked behind her and took a big gulp when she saw Madame Giry standing there, "Meg, go up to bed," Meg didn't dare make a sound as she rushed upstairs, but Christine tried to keep her posture straight, "Christine, you may continue your lessons as long as you do not disrupt anything."

"Really?"

"Yes," Christine beamed up and hugged the woman tightly just before she rushed upstairs to the abandoned dressing room. There was an entire different air in there, so dark and mysterious. Sometimes, she could swear she felt hands on body when she sang.

Shyly, she took five candles with their stands and lit them in front of the mirror as she waited in anticipation for the voice she knew and loved to sound. Meanwhile, Erik had reached the last step of his journey to the mirror, he now stood in front of Christine, behind a plate of glass, of course. But still, the mere image of the beautiful girl staring blankly into the mirror made him quiver with excitement, "Christine. My lovely protegé. What have you worked on since our lessons?" Her singing voice always had a sweet timbre to it, like an instrument.

His voice echoed from all the walls, making Christine follow the echo. In her sweet soprano voice, she replied, "Everything I could do," her voice in itself made him full, but it was time to sing.

"We shall start simple as always," the lessons went on as planned. Everything from scales to arias were covered in a variety of keys and tempos. They began with piece called _L'amour est un oiseau rebelle_, from _Carmen_. Simple, but not in her tone, "Perfect. I think you are ready to move on. To finally be a soprano," Erik rejoiced in her glorious voice, his creation. But after the singing was finished, there still was at least fifteen minutes left until midnight, "Well, my dove, do you want to say anything?"

"Angel, is my father in heaven?" She remembered as she stared at photograph that kept hugged beside her waist.

He paused, feeling sorry for manipulating her like that, "Your father is safely tucked under God's arm. He is in a good place with good people."

Christine grinned, looking down at her feet as the voice dissipated. She looked all around, holding a hand to her heart, "_Mon Ange_, will I ever have a lover?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"All of the other girls have lovers. Will I ever have one?"

Erik felt immense arousal at the thought of being her lover, if only he was so lucky, "Perhaps in the near future. Maybe even a husband or suitor."

"Angel, this is a dumb question and I know angels cannot love. But if you were human, would you love me?"

She didn't understand how human he really was, but she was young and naïve, "If I were human, this thing you call love would be given to you all the time," A giggled emanated from her vocal chords and she grabbed at her breast, which stung with a sharp short pain. She whimpered, falling to her knees before the mirror as the sting slowly ended, "Christine, why do you whimper?"

"Oh, my," she paused as Erik stood behind the mirror clutching at the glass. His hands yearned to grabbed her, yearned to touch her and make the pain go away, "It's only female things."

Erik knew what it meant, she was growing. She would soon have a fuller bust. The one thing that would finally make her a woman was about to happen, "Well my little protegé, I think it is time I left you to your thoughts. Goodnight."

Christine stood with a blank face until she stepped out of the dressing room. She headed over to the ballet dorms, where she had lived ever since she was seven. The dorms reminded her of father, when he was bed-ridden and dying. Her tears came back as she climbed into her bed by the window. She fell asleep with tears streaming down her cheeks, Erik watching from a window outside. He wanted to wipe away her tears and kiss her goodnight like her father used to do, but it would be too risky. Instead, he fleeted back to his underground world.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Two-thousand Francs! That is preposterous!"

"I'm sorry, Monsieur. But he does write all of our operas. We must pay him somehow."

Meg and Christine went running around chasing each other like little girls. Meg had a hold of Christine corset and she pulled her along, "Meg, stop it! Give me the laces!" Just as the laces were let down, a black figure rushed soundlessly above the rafters.

"It's the Phantom! The Phantom of the Opera!" All of the other ballet girls rushed away, screaming in fear. But when Madame Giry intervened, they stopped quickly and waited for instructions.

"Don't worry about any Phantom. This is just nonsense! Now, go back to your warm-ups," Meg and Christine went over to a corner and started stretching as Madame commanded. They had a short conversation with each other...

"It's funny, Christine. Just as you start to talk to your angel more, the Phantom appears more. I just hope he doesn't commit any more murders."

"I'm frightened, Meg. What if he comes after me? What if he touches me in my sleep?"

"Oh, he wouldn't do that. He doesn't dare to even think about women."

"But Joseph said he did. Remember what he said about Claire-"

"Joseph touched Claire, Christine. The Phantom is a murder, not a rapist."

Madame Giry interrupted their conversation, "How many times must I tell you girls?! This Phantom thing is nonsense! Stop talking about it or you will suffer the consequences!"

"Yes, Maman. I am sorry."


	2. Chapter One

_**Love That Will Last ~**_

_**Chapter One ~**_

_Two years later..._

Erik watched from above as Christine was dancing, this would be the last of her dancing and the last of Carlotta's wretched voice. Monsieur Lefèvre came onto the stage, briefcase in hand, standing in front of two other blokes, "Everybody, attention please! Attention please!"

Everyone stopped singing and dancing as Monsieur Lefèvre introduced Monsieur Andrè and Firmin, "There have been rumors about my retirement and I would like to put those to an end. Monsieur Andrè and Firmin shall be taking my place and I," he said, holding up his briefcase, "will be taking leave to Monte Carlo. Gentleman, have fun."

The gray-haired man rushed out quickly, leaving just about everyone confused. Carlotta complained, "Well, there goes my career! _Oh mio_!"

"Hello," Monsieur Andrè shook his weary hand with Carlotta, "you must be Madame la Carlotta. I am pleased to meet you."

"Ah! Finally someone recognizes true talent."

"Well, we would like to hear what you have."

"Yes, Monsieur," Carlotta grinned suavely at Gilles Andrè and began to sing her solo, the orchestra catching on slowly, "Think of me...think of me fondly when we good-" just before she could sing the word goodbye, a scenery prop dropped and knocked her to the ground. It was all Erik's doing, he stared happily down at what he did. Meg ran around, shouting at the top of her lungs.

"He's here, the Phantom of the Opera! He's here, the Phantom of the Opera!"

"A Phantom?!" shouted Firmin as Andrè helped up Carlotta.

"No way. I mean, Madame, these things do happen! It's obviously a mistake."

"These things do happen?" she boasted, motioning around the rafters as a black shadow rushed away and a letter came flying down, "Until you stop these things from happening, this thing does not happen!" she said, rushing out with her things.

Madame Giry picked up the letter, with a wax seal of a red skull. She opened it, knowing it was from 'The Phantom' himself, "It is for you, Monsieurs. From the Phantom."

"No! This is nonsense!"

"No nonsense. He merely welcomes you to his Opera and tells you a few things. It says to remember to leave box five empty and pay him his monthly salary of two-thousand Francs."

"Two-thousand Francs! Preposterous! And box five! That is the best seat in the house! Everyone will be angered!"

"Nevermind the ghost, what about our star?," inquired Andrè, "We are supposed to have the opening gala tonight! What will we do?"

"Oh, we're done for, Andrè! Done for!"

"Not neccesarily," Madame Giry motioned Christine over towards the managers, "Christine Daàe could do it."

"The dancer girl. Nonsense."

"She has been taking lessons from a very good teacher."

"Wait a minute! Daàe?" Monsieur Firmin scratched at his moustache and stared at Christine with wonder, "That is a peculiar name. Any relation to the Swedish violinist?"

"Yes, my father."

"Firmin, this is ridicule!"

"Give her a chance. Do you know the solo, Madamiouselle?"

She nodded shyly, stepping forward only an inch, "Firmin, this is doing nothing for my nerves."

"Sh."

As Christine sang everyone stood silent, surprised by her talent for being such a quiet girl all of the time. At the same time, she saw what she thought to be Raoul, her childhood sweetheart from such a long time ago and she fainted from excitement, "Christine, Madame? Do you think she'll be able to sing?"

"She fainted from nervousy. I'm sure she'll be fine."

Madame Giry picked her up and took her into the abandoned dressing room, now hers, and layed her down on a red sofa. She took a cloth with some cold water and placed it on her forehead to wake her up, "What happened, Christine?"

"I think I saw Raoul. I haven't seen him since I was a young girl. Madame, I am frightened! I can't possibly take Carlotta's place. I am too..."

"He demands it, Christine."

"Raoul?"

Madame stood up and walked out of Christine's dressing room, "The Phantom."

Another faint attacked Christine before she could even question it.

xXxXxXxXxXx

It was nearing the end of the opening gala and Christine had one last song before she could finally leave the stage, her solo of _Think of Me_. Anxiety took over her just before she sang, but she still emanated the music beautifully, Erik watching silently from box five. The song was ending and she used vibrato on the last words, "...of me!"

Everyone cheered her on and, she didn't realize it, but Raoul had been watching her from box four, applauding loudly with the others. All she could hear were brava's, nothing negative was spoken and it made her feel warm inside, to be cherished like this. She took a bow and walked gracefully offstage into her dressing room. She went to the mirror and heard this angelic voice singing to her, "Brava, brava! Bravissimo!"

Suddenly, the door to the dressing swung open and in stepped Madame Giry. She handed Christine a red faux rose and, tied to, a black ribbon with her name engraved in it in cursive, "You did wonderful, my dear. He is very pleased."

"The Phantom?"

"I am afraid so. He tells me he loves your voice. He is glad you are the star."

As Madame Giry left, Christine stood to start undressing, taking off her uncomfortable costume and replaced with her dressing gown. Another knock came from the door, "Come in," as she finished tying the ribbon and sat down in front of the vanity mirror, Raoul stepped in with a large bouquet of flowers. She trembled in her skin as she saw her childhood sweetheart for the first time in twelve years, "Oh, Raoul. You do remember me!"

"Who could forget sweet, little Christine?" he exclaimed, setting the flowers on her dresser, "So, how have you been?"

"It is wonderful here, Raoul. So lovely, I only wish you could have been here sooner."

"So do I," Raoul swept aside a strand of blond hair and moved one of Christine's auburn curls aside, caressing her cheek, "You have grown to be such a beautiful woman," she blushed, taking his hand in hers shyly, "You're too lovely. You know that?"

"I am told."

"Good," he smiled as her eyes met his, "Should we go out to supper?"

"Oh, no Raoul. I can't. He wouldn't be happy."

"He? You have a suitor?"

"No. My angel. He gives me lessons at this time. He said I must not leave the opera."

"That's preposterous, Christine. I'm sure he won't mind one night."

"Raoul!"

"I insist. Please, put something nice on," she looked wide-eyed at the door and stood up to get ready just she heard it lock. Something in her was frightened, being trapped inside of her dressing room wasn't exactly a good thing. She panicked a bit, looking around for another way out until she heard her angel's voice ring in strong tenor.

"Ah, Christine! You have come a long way. Today, you shall be rewarded."

"Rewarded?" She turned curiously and stared into the mirror.

"Yes, my protegé. Rewarded," Christine wondered about the word rewarded. What did it mean, and how would that happen?

"Come, come to your mirror," she waltzed towards the mirror, curiosity filling her very veins, "Yes, that's it. Closer," she came closer until she had her nose pressed to the glass. Suddenly, the glass slid aside to reveal this strange chamber. A hand gloved with black leather reached out to her and she felt quickly intimidated. She was tiny compared to just the hand, but she reached out to this hand and was pulled into chamber with this man draped in black.

From head to foot, he wore a shiny fedora and cape, his overcoat shimmered with black sequins, and wore this porcelain mask. Tall and slender, he questioned her sweetly, "Are you frightened? Please, I mean no harm."

"I- I don't know what to do. I- I feel like I should..." before she could continue, she found herself bewitched by his bright green eyes, "Your eyes are mysterious," she followed him down several flights of stairs without even knowing it. When she heard the running water, she shook her head, confused about where she ended up, "Where are we?"

"You shall find out momentarily," he helped her into a gondola and rowed along as she looked mesmerized at the statues and other intricate things he had crafted. They rowed along past a gate and kept on going until they reached this strange place filled with candles and paintings and, something that stood out the most, an organ mounted against the wall. Christine sat still in the gondola until he reached down and helped her out onto the brick pavement.

"Is this where you live?"

"Sadly. Would you like to get comfortable?"

"Erm, no thank you. I...yes."

"Alright. Come," she followed him, still in a deep trance, to another room with perfectly constructed furniture. He lead her to an armchair and sat at her feet, looking up at her happily. She felt slightly uncomfortable and shrunk down into the chair, "Forgive me. Do I make you nervous?"

"A little bit."

"Sorry," he stood and just leant against the wall, "Is that better?"

"Yes. But what about you? Aren't you comfortable?"

"You care about my comfort?" He questioned with a blank face.

"I care about everyone's comfort."

"You are sweet. Really, I am fine as long as you are," his bright eyes burned into her very soul, making her weak. She stirred a bit when she tried to stand, but when his now ungloved hand grabbed hers, she fainted into his arms. Erik had scooped her up and taken her into his bedroom where he laid her down on soft velvet sheets. Gently, he kissed her forehead and whispered the words I love you without any of her knowing.


	3. Chapter Two

_**Love That Will Last ~**_

_**Chapter Two ~**_

Christine woke up in a larger bed that was not hers, eyes wandering around the strange room she now dwelled in, but hopefully wouldn't. She carefully climbed out of the bed that's red velvet sheets fell to the floor. She heard the most lovely, yet unfamiliar music playing on a soft organ's sound. Silently, she walked out of the room to see her angel of music playing beautiful melodies on his pipe organ. She walked up to him quietly, looking down as the masked man lost in his music swayed gently in playing. She found the perfect opportunity to finally see his face, possibly flawless and immensely beautiful.

Her hands moved gently around his masked cheek, then rubbed against the soft flesh of his other. He slowly stopped playing, pressing his hand against hers to urge her on. She reveled in the heavenly feeling of his flesh, and then, in one quick movement, ripped off his mask. He let go her hand, shooting up as he felt the uglier side of his face uncovered. She had the porcelain in her hand and cowered from him, horror taking over her features, "Come, you wanted see it! Look, look at my cursed ugliness!"

Christine quivered, a nervous wreck as he pulled her closer, "Christine," he fell backwards, pulling her with him. She writhed out of his grasp and held herself against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Why? Why is there no love for poor Erik? Why don't you accept him?" He sat up, his own eyes producing terrible tears, "Erik has never been loved, nor looked at with compassion. That is all he wants from his Christine."

She eyed him with sympathy, no love at all? Love might be the most important thing in the world and he has never received it, "Your name is Erik?" He nodded gently, "Erik, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I don't know what I was thinking, really. Here," she held out his mask for him and, shyly, he took it and replaced the porcelain onto his face.

Standing, he replied, "Erik forgives you," he took her hand and drug her roughly along with him towards the gondola, "Now come! Those two fools around my theater will be missing you!"

Meanwhile, Monsieur André and Firmin were pestered by guests who wished to see Christine and give her flowers and other gifts, "Please, give these to Mademoiselle Daàe!"

"We are very sorry, but she is missing!" André finally managed to shut the door, blocking everybody from the opera, "We are truly done for, Firmin! Done for!"

"I know. What has happened to Christine?"

"Messieurs!" Madame Giry rushed towards them, "Another note!"

"Is it that opera ghost?! No! I will not-"

"You must. He has information on Christine."

Firmin eyed the letter and snatched it out her hands, skimming through, "Monsieur André and Firmin: You have not taken me seriously on the whole, but I will excuse that. I would like to tell you that Christine is under the wing of her angel of music and you will not see her unless she performs as Countess on stage tonight in Il Muto. I shall send her back, but any mishaps and dire precautions shall be taken. Signed, OG."

"This is ridicule!"

"Well he really does have her, André! What else can we do?" As Firmin ended with that, Carlotta bursted through the door to gather the rest of her things, "Yes! Madame Carlotta..."

"No! Don't waste your breath! I am only here for my garments and then I shall take leave."

"But, Carlotta, the crowd needs you!"

"Yes, you're our Prima Donna!"

She took these things into kind consideration, with the thought of the opera ghost in mind, "_Dannazione_! Fine! Fine, I will do this show! But that Phantom's courtesan Christine cannot disturb anything!"

"No, not at all. She will be the Page boy."

"Yes, of course! And box five?"

"It shall be used!"

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Erik watched from the rafters once again, angry when he saw Christine in the position of the Page boy. Carlotta had returned, but not forever. When she was about to sing, Erik had the brilliant idea to let his ventriloquist talent ruin her reputation. Carlotta began and after a few lyrics Erik came out with this awful croaking noise as she tried to over power his voice. He laughed malevolently, using the deepest voice he had to say, "She sings to bring down the chandelier!"

The entire crowd looked around in worry as Meg, still on stage, whispered to Christine, "The Phantom, he's here!"

"Ladies and gentlemen," Monsieur André and Firmin came up to the stage as the curtain closed, finding a different opportunity as they grabbed Christine, "Erm, Christine Daàe shall be taking Carlotta's place as Countess," they let her go to get ready, "Until then, we shall do Act Five of tonight's performance. The ballet," André whispered to the conductor, "Go on! Act Five, ballet!"

As they rushed off stage, the curtains opened once again and all the ballet dancers assumed their positions. Erik stood in the rafters as Joseph Buquet, a man who was after him for a while, found him standing in the rafters. Erik looked up and saw Joseph hold up a gun to his head, but when Joseph was faced with the eyes of the Phantom, he rushed away. The ballet began just as Erik assumed the chase, following Buquet around the rafters with his Punjab lasso hanging by his thigh. Joseph was met face to face again for the last time before he fell, foot tangled caught in the wooden bars of the rafters, "Ah, Buquet! Serves you right."

Erik took the lasso and quickly threw the noose around Buquet's neck before he could get up. His grip tightened on the rope and with one hard pull, he heard the snap of his victims neck. A demented grin spread on his lips and he kicked Buquet's body off of the rafters, landing right in the middle of the ballet. He could hear the screams of the girls as he held the rope like a puppet's strings, wiggling Joseph's dead body before dropping it on the stage.

Below, Christine just came out of her dressing room to see Joseph's dead body lying on the ground. A worried Raoul came up to her, but she just rushed up the stairs that led to the roof of the opera, hoping and wishing that Raoul wouldn't be next. As she reached the rooftop, she found Raoul about ten steps behind her and suddenly he was next to her, "Raoul, please, you cannot be here with me! I need to be-" She was interrupted by his deep kiss as his fingers ran through her hair, but she gently pushed him back, "I- I can't kiss you."

"Why not?"

She sniffled, a shiver of sadness over coming her, "The Phantom. He...is in love with me. He's desperately in love me, Raoul. And I am afraid! He won't let me see you anymore!"

"He can't control you like that. Christine, who do you love? You decide who you love."

"I," she noticed a large, black cape behind the statue, flowing in the wind, "I don't know. I don't know who to love. I need a sign."

"How is this? He is a murderer, Christine."

"I know he is. But I just can't hate him. How can I hate someone who grovels at my feet?"

"What is this man like, anyway?" She stared at Raoul with warning, remembering the black cape that belonged to Erik.

"His name is Erik. He is tall and slender, but a little burly. He has these bright green eyes that just burn my soul. And yet, he is so weak. He has been hurt somehow. In his heart."

"You mean to tell me you have feelings for him?"

"No. Wait!" She paused to give it some thought, "I actually don't know."

"What would stop you from loving him?"

"Horror! His face, it fills me with horror. He has a death head, his face is severely damaged. He said it was from birth and told how his own mother never gave him love. He calls me his Christine, but," she turned around and saw the cape still flowing in the wind, "I am not."

"Christine, if you have feelings for him, I understand. But he is dangerous! Who knows what he's capable of!" Raoul kissed her on the cheek one last time, "If you change your mind, I will always be here."

As Raoul left the rooftop, Christine still stared at the black cape until she finally decided to approach it. As soon as she reached it, Erik pulled her so that her head landed on his chest. She looked up into his eyes, tears starting to drip down her cheeks, "Does Christine not love her Erik?"

"I don't know who to love. Raoul has always been a friend and you have always been my angel," she stared at him suspiciously, finding an emotion she didn't know in his eyes, "What's wrong?"

"You don't love me. I spent years obsessing over you only to break my heart. Well you know what, Christine? Maybe I don't want to have my heart broken. Maybe I want a happy ending! Maybe Erik deserves some affection," he fell to his knees and then bent down to kiss the hem of her dress, "Please, Christine! If you loved me, I would be as gentle as a lamb. You could do whatever you wished with me."

"Erik-"

"I beg you! Give me a chance! I will treat you like a queen. I will do whatever you want me to. Just love me! Please," now he even cried as he shriveled up into a ball like a boy, "I want someone to kiss me and tell me that I actually mean something."

Christine sat down with him on the ground and placed his head in her lap. He cowered away now, hands plastered to his face, "Erik, I won't hurt you again. I swear," he removed his hands and looked up at her curiously.

"But you don't love Erik. You love Raoul."

"I never said I loved him and I never said I hated you," she gently ran her fingers through his hair, treating him like a child, "Erik, you mean more than you think. Really," she gave it some thought and then bent down to kiss his forehead. He stopped crying suddenly and looked up at Christine through eyes still clouded with tears.

"You kissed me."

"Of course."

"You didn't quiver at all. And yet you kissed me on the forehead," he shot up happily and touched Christine's lips with his fingers, feeling her shake a little, "Is it my fingers that disgust you?"

"You don't disgust me anymore, Erik. It's in you soul where the true distortion lies," he grinned slightly as her fingers came up to touch his lips, swollen and misshapen.

"Do my lips disgust you?"

"No. As a matter of fact," she softly climbed into his lap and thought long and hard before she did something unforgettable. She gently pressed her lips onto his and, in a hurry, Erik regained his power. He stood up with her lips still locked to his and rubbed her back with a careful hand. Suddenly, she let go and took a few steps back. Christine looked at what she had done and suddenly felt awful, "Carlotta is right. I am your courtesan!"

Christine ran away in tears, but all Erik could do was love the kiss he just received. He finally felt wanted, and in turn, he made a vow to himself to never kill another soul.


	4. Chapter Three

_**Love That Will Last ~**_

_**Chapter Three ~**_

Christine shot up and looked at her surroundings, then groaned silently to herself. She stood up and suddenly remembered everything. She was afraid of being Erik's courtesan, even though she wasn't, and she fainted once she had taken off her costume. Looking down, she was only in her undergarments and she blushed, hoping Erik wasn't behind the mirror. She rushed over to a small basin and shoved her head into the lukewarm water, massaging her scalp.

Christine grabbed a towel that was by the basin and wrapped her hair in it while she put some clothes on. Just as she started to button up her gown, the mirror slid open and out stepped Erik, happier than ever. She just stared blankly at him as he rushed up, grabbed her cheeks, and gave the best kiss she had ever had. She felt the towel fall to the floor and, without noticing, they tumbled onto her sofa continued kissing until there was a knock on the dressing room door. Christine looked around, searching for a place to hide him, but there was no time, "Go! Wait for me behind the mirror!"

Erik obliged as the door to her dressing room opened. In stepped Madame Giry and Christine felt much more relieved. The older woman stared at the wet towel on the floor before Christine picked it up and hung it on the rack by the basin, "Sorry, Madame."

"What happened, Christine?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your lips. They are swollen."

"What?" Christine looked into the vanity mirror and saw her reflection. Her lips were swollen, but they were also bright red. She a deep blush that tainted her cheeks and her eyes watered terribly. She didn't know how to explain it other than to tell the truth, "I, erm, have been kissing someone."

"Whom, might I ask? Is it Raoul?"

"No. It's...Erik. I mean, the Phantom."

"You have met Erik?"

"Yes. Do you know Erik?"

"Let's say I am his assistant in some way. I have delivered all of his notes," Madame Giry looked at Christine seriously, not in any way amused, "But you realize that he is very dangerous, right?" Christine nodded shyly and held her hands against her skirt.

"I believe that with the proper care, Erik can be redeemed."

"Perhaps. But I highly doubt it. He will still be the same impatient man."

"I admit his impatience will not go away, but I think I should give him a chance. He was so sincere last night when... Madame, I made him cry. He groveled at my feet and begged for my love. I just had to oblige."

"I see. Well, maybe Erik can be redeemed. Especially if you love him enough," Madame Giry left Christine's dressing room.

Afterwards, Erik slid the mirror open again and called to Christine, "Are you ready to go?"

Christine eyed the door for a moment, then turned around, "Yes," Christine shoved a few of her gowns into a bag and then departed with Erik through the mirror.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Monsieur André stared at the mountain of paper on his desk, holding up five playing cards. Across from him was Monsieur Firmin, who also held up five playing cards. They sipped on wine while playing a friendly game of poker. Firmin shook his head at his hand, "Well, André, have anything good?" André set his cards face up the table; ace, one, two, four, and king, "No. Well, looks like today is my lucky day," Firmin set his cards face up.

"Royal Flush, again? Firmin, I swear you could become a gambler one day!" Madame Giry stepped in, a note in her hand. She came up to Messieurs André and Firmin, "Don't tell me, Madame. Another note from the opera ghost?"

"I am afraid so."

"But look at my desk!" He waved at the paperwork, "I have mountains of paperwork to do and this ghost just demands so much!"

"You'll like this note, though. Here, find out yourselves," Firmin took the letter and unfolded it to read its contents.

"To Messieurs André and Firmin; I have thought it through once before and I now embrace the thought. This is the last time my letters shall reach your hands and the last time you see your star Christine," Firmin paused a moment in surprise, "Christine has left the opera for good and I am sorry to say that I'm the cause. Though your star is gone, you and your opera house shall remain unharmed. Signed, for the last time, OG."

André shot up in excitement, grabbing his goblet to pour more wine in it, "Gone forever!" He drank the red fluid he poured in the glass and ripped up the mountain of paperwork, "We won't be needing these anymore, Firmin! We're saved!"

xXxXxXxXxXx

Christine sat upon Erik's lap in his armchair, grinning for no apparent reason. They locked lips again in the privacy of his underground home until they heard footsteps. Erik perched up to see Nadir walk into the room, surprised with Erik's behavior, "Erik, I thought you never resorted to having a courtesan?" As soon as Christine turned her head, Nadir recognized her face, "This is Christine?"

"Yes. She is a lovely thing, isn't she?"

Christine stood and backed a few inches away from Erik so she wouldn't be tempted to kiss him, "Indeed. So, Christine, how long have you known Erik?"

"Maybe a month. I don't remember. But it feels like forever," she eyed Erik happily and then ventured off to his bedroom to leave them alone. Nadir noticed Erik's smile and had to grin himself.

"It's funny. Two years ago you were in tears and proclaiming your love for that woman. And now, I come to see her in your lap canoodling with you," Nadir sighed and glanced at Erik as he stared into space, "You really are in love, aren't you?"

"More now than ever. Ha, you should have seen what happened last night on the rooftop. I broke down like a little child, begging for her love, and yet, she kissed me. It was the most magical night of my life, a night I shall never forget."

Nadir tittered and said in response, "How it is she loves, I will never know. But I am happy for you, my friend. Very much so."

Erik eyed his friend, "Nadir," he said, rising from the chair, "No offense, but I would like it if you'd leave."

"Ah, I see. More alone time with Christine?" Erik glared angrily, "Alright, alright. I'm off. But try not to rush into things with the poor girl."

Erik shook his head and then ventured into his bedroom to see Christine just laying in the bed, daydreaming. Not wanting to disturb her, he quietly tiptoed to the bed and lounged beside her to just observe her. Christine felt someone touch her arm and then turned to see Erik laying beside her. She smirked at his presence and scooted closer, head pressing into his torso. He pushed Christine onto her back and then toppled her, kissing her deeply. Her soft giggle was apparent and he released to she her brightened face, "So beautiful."

The smile disappeared from her face and she reached up to remove his mask. Erik winced, thinking that she would find him ugly once again until he felt her lips. Christine kissed his disfigured cheek and then ran her fingers up the rough flesh, "Everyone has beauty within them, Erik. Especially you."

With that, he grinned happily and pecked her on lips several times before rolling onto his back. The night was here, and then each of them fell soundly asleep in each other's arms.


	5. Chapter Four

_**Love That Will Last ~**_

_**Chapter Four ~**_

As soon as Christine woke up, she realized Erik wasn't beside her. Sitting up, she looked around and called out his name to hear nothing in response. Christine slipped onto her feet and walked quietly into the other room to see Erik sitting with a strange gentleman, signing some sort of paperwork. The gentleman gave a sigh and then took the paperwork, "Well, Monsieur, thank you. You have no idea how long I was trying to sell the house."

"It isn't a problem. Really, I should thank you," Erik stood with the gentleman and noticed Christine standing by the doorway of his bedroom, "Ah, she awakens! Pardon, Monsieur, this is my friend. Christine, you do realize that it is almost five o'clock, right."

Her eyes widened, "I slept that long?"

"I am afraid so, my dear," Erik faced the gentleman once again and shook his hand in respect, "Anyways, Monsieur, thank you for the house. Also, is it possible to make additions?"

"Yes. I did leave the possibility of additions," the gentleman grinned and bowed his head to both of them, "I hope you and your lady friend have a wonderful time there."

As the gentleman left, Christine stood completely confused, "You realize that we are more than just friends now, but what was that about?"

"Christine, we have a real home now. You finally have the sunshine you need," she beamed and rushed up to give him a hug.

"Oh, thank you!" Her smile was enough to brighten a gloomy day. Then he smirked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Only the best for my Christine," As she let go, his arms released her waist, "Well, would you like to start packing?"

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

About an hour later, Erik and Christine were coming up to this lovely hillside home that sat by small pastures. A few wild cattle roamed a few miles and out there, the sounds of their newborns were heard. The outside was green, filled with grass for miles. The home itself was small, compared to the lovely rolling hills. It was built out of stone, with a few wooden additions that were the windows, doors, and a couple pillars.

Erik finally managed the lock and opened the door to let in Christine, replacing the bags in his grip. Once inside, he shut the door and set down the four bags and joined her in her exploration. He sighed, watching her walk happily around the place. The inside was completely different, with floors covered in soft carpet and walls covered with light paint. Every piece of furniture was brand new, some still had plastic coverings. But nonetheless, it was a lovely little house and that was all that mattered.

She shook her head with disbelief and amazement from his household decision, "This is nice, Erik. Very lovely. You have good taste."

"I'm glad you think so," Erik grinned, took her hand, and then led her into the bedroom which was down a short hallway filled with pretty, small artworks.

He opened the door and let her explore the room. It consisted of a large armoire and a queen-sized bed, "Now, the furniture in here is mostly my creation. The mattress is actually from my...other home."

"Really? Oh yes, that spare in the room," she remembering accidentally bumping into it and feeling how soft it was, "It's probably heaven to lay on."

"It better be. It took me two years to make that mattress. But it was all worth it," Erik chuckled a bit and then plopped onto his creation. The mattress was firm, yet soft and as Christine climbed onto it she sighed in contentment.

"This is nice. I could lay here all day," a grin spread across Erik's face as he remembered a little present in his pocket. He also recalled stocking the kitchen with fresh foods he could prepare for her. Coincidentally, her stomach rumbled a bit and he cackled, "Okay, probably not. I guess I am a little hungry now."

"Alright. Well, I stocked the kitchen for you. What would you like?"

"I don't know. What can you do?"

Erik smirked at her words as he stood, but pointed down before she could stand again, "Stay here. I haven't actually built the dining table yet."

The kitchen, in comparison the home, was quite small. Everything had a tan sort of color, even the floor being a dark bronze. It was stocked decently with five cabinets, an ice chest, three marble top counters, and some wood in the corner that would soon be a table. As he went into the kitchen, he thought of what to make her. Something simple, was what he thought, I don't want to appear as a gourmet chef or anything. Erik open a small ice chest and took out the fresh chicken, along with chèvre and a loaf of bread from the cabinet.

He heard Christine approaching as he prepared a couple of sandwiches, then he saw her watching in interest, "What are you making?"

"Sandwiches. Have you never had one?"

"I'm afraid not. I was never allowed to eat things like this. My father loved his homeland and he brought everything with him to France, including traditions. I grew up eating like a Swede my whole."

A deep chuckle bubbled from his throat as he gave her a taste of the chicken, "You'll be eating like the French in no time."

Christine giggled softly and looked at Erik's thin body. He wasn't this thin since the first time she met him, and she slowly began to wonder as she swallowed her food, "You haven't eaten in while, have you?"

"No. I was caught up in composing," he finished the sandwiches and reached up to touch her jaw, "and you. You distracted me from just about everything. There is quite a bit going on, I must say. I had to buy this house, make my music, feed you, worry about your-"

A soft finger came up to his lips and, laughing, he kissed it, "You need not worry about me, Erik. I am safe as long as I'm with you."


	6. Chapter Five

_**Love That Will Last ~**_

_**Chapter Five ~**_

Christine, sitting relaxed on the sofa, was interrupted when Erik bursted back inside of the house. He had a big grin on his face, set down his coat, and sat beside her on the sofa. She had set down the book she was reading to listen to what he obviously had to say, "Christine, how do you feel about getting married tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Really?!"

"Yes, yes! How do you feel about that?"

"Erik, it's wonderful!" She wound her arms around his neck and he relished in her love, kissing the crook of her neck, "Mmm, you know," she released him just when he started to get warmer and stronger, pulling her back on him by the shoulders, "I- I was thinking about it earlier today and, well, I was wondering-"

"Spit it out, Christine," he said, releasing her to finally look into her eyes, "I don't have much patience."

"I understand. Well, I thought today and realized the things we have to do after marriage-"

"Ah, such wonderful things!"

"Yes," he eyed her in a seductive manner, then bent down to gently nibble on her earlobe, "Er-Erik, how would you like to have a child with me?"

He stopped the gentle nibbling, moved away from her face, and looked her in the eyes, "A-a baby? Well that would be-" he trailed off, staring into space. Christine waited patiently for him to speak again, but he just wouldn't bring himself to words.

"If you don't want to, I understand. It's sudden. I shouldn't be talking about it."

"No, Christine. That's not it," he tried to think of the right thing to say, "I just- I'm worried about-"

"Tell me, Erik. I won't judge you," the level of understanding Christine had was something he knew he would have to get used to. Erik took a deep breath, then held one of her hands.

"I'm afraid that if the child looks- well- like me, that you will be like my mother and just...reject," he trailed off again, the sad memories filling his gaze, "I'm afraid you'll reject a child that looks like me."

Christine gave off mixed emotions, leaving him to wonder. She smirked, but Erik knew that she was too kind to actually say that she would. Would she really reject a child that looked like him, "Erik, what kind of life have you led? Before we even think of getting married, I want to know you. The _real_ you; no lies."

"So this means we won't wed tomorrow?" her head shook, "Alright. Two weeks, it is."

"Erik, you're forgetting the purpose."

"No, I remember. You want the real me. That's fine. But you will get a bit every day."

"Alright. Give me the first bit then."

"There was never affection for a toddler," Christine gawked at the information she received, her eyes squinted painfully.

"How could-" she covered her mouth, a tear forming in the corner of her eye, "How could a mother deny her son love?"

"I've told you this before. I thought you'd get over it by now."

"Me, get over it?! You poor thing! How do you even know love exists?"

"My friend, Nadir. He opened my eyes as an eighteen-year-old to the world of affection," her eyes suddenly drooped down and she frowned.

"How did he do that?"

"It was nothing inappropriate. He just showed me his wife. He showed me how powerful his love was for her with a kiss," the frown disappeared and was replaced by a wide grin.

"I like this Nadir. He seems like a nice gentleman."

"He is most of the time. Sometimes he can be a bother, though," she now eyed him intently, her smile wider. Erik couldn't cheer up, the memories causing him a mental pain. Christine saw his sadness and felt this mixture of sympathy and equal sadness overwhelm her. She inched closer and then gave him a kiss she thought would make some things a little better.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. You just made me remember things," he eyed her finely, the green of his eyes hardening into a darker shade, "I remembered things I thought I would never have to live with again."

Christine couldn't get over the sadness he felt, each word he said adding more sympathy. She returned her attention to him and whispered, "What can I do to make you feel safe?"

"Safety?" It didn't occur to him that safety may have been an object of his anxiety, "I'm not sure. What helps you?"

She said nothing, only grinned and rested his ear upon her breast, "Sometimes hearing the heartbeat of the ones I love can do a lot. What does it do for you?"

He closed his eyes, the steadiness of her heart lulling and calming him, "I feel serene," he took a deep breath, inhaling her rosy scent, "The mixture of your scent and your heartbeat is amazing."

A small giggle came out of her mouth and she gently balanced her hand on his head, "I never told you that you were the same," his eyes opened and returned to her gaze, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he closed his eyes once more and enjoy the combination of warmth, steadiness, and aroma. For once, things were starting to fall into place.


	7. Chapter Six

_**Love That Will Last ~ **_

_**Chapter Six ~**_

Over the week, Christine had learned more about Erik. She learned about his painful childhood and some details about his mother that she had never expected to be true. Today, though, was silent. On this day, Erik had received an anticipated letter from his friend reassuring a visit, "Christine, do you remember Nadir?"

"Of course."

"Well, we should prepare a meal. Because he is coming with Atefeh and his son Amir. I said he could stay for supper, if you don't mind cooking for them."

"I don't mind, but I would like a hand."

"Of course, dear. I am your assistant."

"But who is Atefeh?"

"His wife. She is a very nice lady, I am sure you will like her," suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the door, "That might be them," Christine began getting out the meat and spices for supper as Erik opened the door to see his friend, "Hello Nadir. A pleasure, Atefeh. And who is this Amir?" a small boy, maybe four years old, approached Erik with a tiny smile, "Hello, my name is Erik."

"Hello."

Atefeh interrupted, "Pardon the accent. He is still trying to learn French."

"It is fine. He is a small boy. Here, come in," he said, holding the door open, "Make yourselves at home. Supper will be ready in an hour or so."

"Where is the restroom?" asked Atefeh.

"Oh, just down the hall to the right."

"Thank you," Erik watched as Atefeh left in a hurry, but didn't question it.

"I'll be back, Nadir. I'm going to help my wife spice the meat. If Amir starts to get uninterested, there are some paints and parchment in the table he may use," he rushed into the kitchen to see some water boiling, inside the boiling water was a mixture of potatoes and carrots, "Great job, Christine. Now, what have you got for the spices."

"Grounded cayenne and some sort of pepper," he examined the pepper.

"Black pepper. Alright, then. Which one is better?"

"Black pepper, probably. The cayenne is too hot."

"Ha! I have taught you well," he watched her rub a paste onto the meat and sprinkle it with the pepper, "Fabulous. Now, I'll slide it into the rack and you can wait for me in the family room."

Christine nodded and journeyed into the opposite room to see the guests sitting on the sofa. She recognized Nadir, but no one else as she sat in the armchair to the left of the couch, "Hello, Christine."

"Hello, Nadir. Would you mind introducing me to your family?"

"Of course. This is my wife Atefeh," eyeing Atefeh, Christine observed her appearance. She wore strange robes that covered her hair, but she seemed very kind, "and my son Amir," Amir, a small boy, had an identical appearance to that of his father. He had dark hair and eyes and these pink lips that stood out from his olive skin color. Just as Erik came out of the kitchen, Christine stood and let him rest in the armchair beside his friend. She sat in the opposite chair and watched as Erik lowered his head.

"You wouldn't know what happened to Ayesha, would you?"

"Erik, I do not know. Last I saw her was two years ago."

"Who's Ayesha?" Christine interrupted.

"Erik's cat. She is a little Siamese."

"Well, there was a Siamese cat in the prop room. But it was smashed by the wheel of a cart."

"Ah, that might have been her. She tends to get into bad situations," an awkward silence filled the room and Amir was the first one to speak.

"I think you're very pretty, Christine."

"Thank you, Amir. You are handsome, too," Erik grinned at how well Christine got along with his friend's family. He felt a short vibration in the pit of his stomach and stood up to go check on the food, "Atefeh, how long have you been married to Nadir?"

"About twelve years. Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious."

"Alright, everyone," Erik said, stepping into the family room, "Supper is ready when you are."

"Come on," the guests followed Christine into the dining room as Erik put a fair amount of food on everyone's plates. Sitting at the head of the table was Erik, with everyone else filling in the extra chairs. Once the food was 'blessed', everyone began indulging in the deliciousness. Atefeh, first to break the silence, complimented Christine on her meal and earned a thank you.

Soon after, these of the table broke into small separate conversations until Nadir picked up his glass and toasted, "I know this is sudden, but we won't be here for your wedding anyways. So, a toast to Erik and Christine," the names flowed naturally together, like the waves in the ocean, perfectly molded, "Which leads me to another thing," Nadir said after swallowing his water, "You can learn a thing or two about marriage from Atefeh and I. If either of you have any questions, feel free to write or, since we're here, speak."

Minding Amir's innocence, Christine said this in a sweet way toward Atefeh, "If we were to have a child, what would be in store?"

"Ha," Atefeh chuckled, swallowing her food slowly, "Diaper changes, constant awakenings, feedings, and of course, the bonding. That is the only good thing that comes out of it," she says grinning at her son, "A little companion."

Christine didn't stop the grin that spread on her features, smile wide and eyes intent. She liked Nadir and his family, not only a new home with new surroundings, but new friends, too, "Erik, I think that Atefeh and I should go. It will be Amir's bedtime soon. Thank you both, though, for your hospitality and the amazing meal," Nadir and the rest of his family stood, walking towards the door, "Oh, and Christine, good luck with Erik."

She raised an eyebrow once they disappeared, wondering what that meant, "What do you think that means?"

"He wishes you good luck with marrying me. I don't blame him. Sometimes I could use it," he stood as well, gathering up the plates, "Could you get the rest, Christine?"

"Yes," she stood, gathering the drinking glasses and the serving platters, following him to the wash basin. Together they cleaned all the dishes and set them in their right places. Once that was done, she followed him once more into their bedroom and watched as he ripped off his jacket, shuddering, "Are you alright, Erik?"

"I don't know," he turned abruptly and faced her, her expression full of worry, "Do you think I deserve it? Do you think I deserve to marry you?"

"You have as much a right as anyone else does. Why do you care?"

"The way you look at me, so many ways actually," he rushed over, cupping her cheeks in his hands, "Like a lost puppy, like a beaten child. With sympathy and pity. Why, Christine? Why do you pity me?"

"I don't. Well, I do, but not all the time. I mean, I just feel you need help. You've told me so much and sometimes I can't help but to pity you."

"I don't want pity. I want love, Christine," he shuddered again.

"I do you love you. You know that. Now, really, stop quivering and get your night clothes on. I shall do the same and then we can rest together."

"Alright. I'm sorry for that," he complied silently and Christine sorted through her dresser, looking for her nightgown. She thought silently to herself about next week, the week where she would finally be able to marry Erik and give him all the love his heart desired. It filled her with this good feeling, a little hope that someone still loved her.


	8. Chapter Seven

_**Love That Will Last ~**_

_**Chapter Seven ~**_

Yet another week had passed and it finally happened. Christine could remember the feeling of her heart racing standing beside the altar as they ran to the porch together, rain pouring down hard. She could remember the deep, calm breaths Erik faked and the sweatiness of his palms, now covered in rain water. A hand left her waist for only a second when he opened the door and guided her inside.

Christine didn't realize how amazing this would be, how closeness could be so lovely. A heavy sigh left her mouth and then a shiver tingled all the way down her spine, "I'm so cold, Erik. Can you help me out of these garments?"

"Ha," his fingers slithered up her spine, the source of the tingling sensation, and worked with the buttons of her gown, "I can warm you up," the sound of her innocent giggle made him smile.

"That's for later. We should just enjoy our time together and take it easy," she felt him undo the last button of her gown and, shrugging her shoulders, it slipped off with ease. She stepped out of the gown and walked slowly over to the fireplace, turning her head towards Erik. With that, he understood and made his way over there to start a fresh fire.

Christine watched carefully as he grabbed smaller sticks and stacked them in a pile along with some dead grasses. He grabbed a matchbook, and struck the a match against the surface, lighting the fire with it. Time went on and he added log after log until the biggest one was there. He now, with Christine, sat on the sofa and stared into the flames, "This is just fantastic."

"Yes," she agreed, grabbing his hand, "it really is."

Christine stared deeply into his eyes and then inched closer, though she didn't know why. She ended up slowly removing his jacket and cravat, which eventually led to the removal of his shirt. Before she knew it his arm was wrapped carefully around her waist and he inched even closer, almost too close. Erik thought before he did this, though he did it anyway, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips upon hers. The warmth was still new to him, but he leaned closer and enjoyed it.

Christine couldn't stop the grin that formed, it felt so right, kissing him. She leaned in a bit closer and gently tickled his back, earning laughter. She released his lips and brought her fingers from his back to his stomach and continued tickling him. His laughter was controlled and calm as she slowly stopped the tickling, her grin wider, her eyes glistening joyfully, "I've never felt like this."

"Like what?"

She smiled, lowering her head for a moment, "It's like I'm floating," blood rushed to her lips, turning them a deep red color and filling her cheeks with pink. She shivered when his hands touched her back, gently massaging her shoulder blades, "I think I'm in love," eyeing her softly, he questioned why, "I had my doubts, but not anymore. I know now that this is where I belong," this time she was the one to start a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck so he could go nowhere, "In your arms," she mumbled in his mouth.

Erik gently broke off her lips and examined her tears, dabbing them with the tip of his finger, "Why are you crying?"

"I'm so happy. I could stay here forever with you," she rested her head on his shoulder and held on tight when she was lifted off of the sofa, "It's time, isn't it?"

"We should do it before the night is out," she agreed with a nod and watched the hallway get longer until they were in their bedroom.

Erik dropped her on the bed, struggling to get his trousers off as he fiddled with the hook of his belt. Christine took short, ragged breaths, the thought of seeing him fully naked engulfed her with terror. Once he had managed to get the trousers off, he climbed into bed with her and looked her in the eyes. He noticed how her eyes bulged out, staring at his nether regions with a terrified look on her face, "Christine, I would never hurt you. You realize that, right?" She nodded in agreement, "Sadly, I cannot help this pain. But remember that I would never want to cause you any pain on purpose."

Christine forgot the urge to run as he began taking the rest of her undergarments off, unable to do it herself because she was so scared. She watched as he threw her corset aside. Marveling her beauty, he pressed a gentle kiss on her stomach and worked with the laces of her drawers, pulling them off as he did so. He tossed the drawers with the corset and traced each curve with his fingers, "You're just magnificent."

A deep blush went from her cheeks to her chest, filling the areas with pinkness. Then it was time. Christine took a deep breath as she felt the anticipation build, the need to just get it over. She had felt the pain she knew was to come, but also the lovely proximity between herself and Erik. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her shoulder, warm and fresh smelling. He took a moment to regain confidence, her beauty almost scary. The one thing that didn't help was the removal of his mask, "I- I can't."

"Why not? Come on, Erik," she set aside his mask, grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him so he could have a kiss, "I think you are handsome. It doesn't matter what others think. What matters is how you and the ones you love hold you. And I love you. You are amazing. Now be amazing, be your loving self."

Her words gave him some encouragement and he sighed, doing as she said. Erik gently probed around, making sure not to hurt her further than he already did. Christine let a sigh escape and wrapped her arms around his neck as he started to go wild. Her senses were suddenly alive, feeling everything around and inside of her. Picking up any scent and intensifying any lovely emotion that she felt then and there.

For seconds at a time, she could feel her pulse inside of her womb, along with Erik's gentle thrusts. The sensation brought a world of pleasure and then, ended. She felt his last thrust go heavy and fast, then shut her eyes in relief, "Warmer now, love?"

"So much more," she let his weight rest on her, then tumbled him over so that she could lay on him, "I love you. You know that?"

"I do now," he wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned in for another kiss, "I always have. Goodnight, my darling."

"Goodnight," Christine laid awake and watched as he started to doze off. His eyes blinked a couple of times and then he was in a deep rest. Snoring like a child, he mumbled her name a couple of times in his sleep. Christine giggled quietly and soon joined him in a peaceful dream.


	9. Chapter Eight

_**Love That Will Last ~**_

_**Chapter Eight ~**_

Christine stirred awake and realized she was lying on her back, naked, if that didn't help anything. Quickly, she took the bed sheet and wrapped it around herself to see that Erik was not in bed with her, "Of course!" She stood and stomped towards the door, but the lovely timbre of a violin stopped her dead in her tracks. A piece she never heard before was being played, yet it sounded so familiar as she grabbed a cloak and wandered out of the room.

She saw the door to Erik's study opened and watched as his nimble fingers moved slowly across the strings. He played with such enthusiasm, and his skill was outstanding. Christine approached him quietly, so as not to disturb him, and looked closer as he played his heart out on the strings, then it ended. She heard him take a heavy sigh and he relaxed into the chair, writing something down, "Good morning, Christine. Did you sleep well?"

"Quite," she looked over his sheet music, just a new solo he had written, no surprise there, "I didn't know you could play the violin."

"Yes. That is the one thing I have not told you on account of your father. I didn't want to make you cry. I don't like it when you do," he stood, the instrument rested gently under his arm, "I play many more instruments, too. It's just that the violin and the piano are my areas of expertise. So, did you want to bathe, or are you just going to stand in the sweat of lovemaking?"

"Oh, yes. I just forgot for a moment. You can make me do that sometimes," she looked on for a while and then gave him a kiss, "I'll go bathe now."

Erik nodded and watched her leave, turning his attention back to his creation. He sat down in the chair again and admired the craft of his instrument, taking a cleaning cloth to its wooden body as he skimmed over his composition. He hummed to the melody as he rubbed the bow against a slab of rosin. Soon after tuning the instrument once again, he began to play another improvisation he called _Mon Ange_. While playing it, he couldn't help but think of Christine.

Meanwhile, Christine did the last button to her gown and took a collection of pins in her hand. She hummed a melody she heard from her childhood, combing the knots out of her wet hair. The tune she sang had happier memories to it, making her feel like a little girl again. Christine took a couple of pins and rolled strands so hair together so they made one, big, curly mess. For a moment she stared at her reflection and then journeyed back out to see Erik preparing breakfast, "Have a seat at the table. I'll be there in a minute."

Christine did as he said and watched as he served a fair amount on each plate. She waited until he sat down to begin indulging in his wholesome meal, "You know," she said between bites of biscuit, "It is a wife's duty to serve her husband. Not the other way around."

"I don't believe in any of that stuff," he said, swallowing his pork, "In my opinion, a husband should help out as much as he can. And this is the best I can do."

Christine agreed and then stood up, suddenly full, too full, "Do you want me to take your plate? It's the least I can do for that fantastic meal."

"Sure, hold on," he grabbed one last forkful of eggs and joined her in a standing position.

"That's the most I have ever seen you eat before. Are you alright, Erik?"

"Yes, I am fine. Just hungrier than usual. I will get over it."

"Hopefully not," she said, washing the dishes in the basin, "It's starting to have really good results. You look great."

Christine scrubbed them platters clean with some old soap, rinsed them and set them both on the counter to dry. She sighed heavily and felt Erik's arms wrap around her waist, "Do you want to do something fun?"

"Like what?"

"Well," Erik took her hand, rushed her to the window and showed her this green hill outside, followed by another and another, "Do you see those hills?"

"Yes."

"I did a little exploring and just beyond the first hill is a herd of wild horse. They are so much fun to just watch, so fascinating. Would you care to join me?" she smiled, nodding, "Great. You might want to get an umbrella, though. It will probably rain again."

Christine grinned and rushed to the bedroom, gathering her bonnet and a large umbrella from the closet. She took the laces of the bonnet, slipped it over her head and tied it under her neck. Erik stood tapping his foot as Christine came to him with an umbrella in hand, eyes wide with excitement, "Calm down, dear. Someone would think you're a child."

"I'm sorry. I just never get to do fun things. At the opera, I remember some of the girls saying fun is gone when you're an adult. They told me to calm down and never be like that again," she frowned, then remembered who she was with, "but of course, you are exciting and you let me be free. Be myself."

"Well, let's go then. We don't want to get soaked on purpose."

They rushed outside and ran toward the hills, the green grass still sopping with water. As soon as the first hill came closer, everything was clear and brisk. The air was cool, gray clouds started drifting overhead, and the sun shone bright. Erik reached the top first, helping Christine on top of the bolder he stood on, and together they looked out to see this herd of horses drinking water from a small river, "You were right. This is so amazing."

As soon as she said that, a drop of water fell onto her bonnet, followed by another and another. The horses looked up and wandered to an area beneath a cluster of trees for shelter, "Maybe the umbrella was a good idea," she said, unfolding the black shield, "This was fun, though. We will definitely have to do this again."


End file.
